


Smashing Pumpkins

by ragdoll



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, HP Wankfest 2008, Hogwarts, Horny Teenagers, Humor, Inanimate Objects, Masturbation, Other, Pre-Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Pumpkins, Vegetables, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-12 00:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragdoll/pseuds/ragdoll
Summary: Written for the 2008 hp_wankfest challenge on InsaneJournal. The prompts were: Charlie Weasley With A Pumpkin (a slutty desperate-for-it pumpkin) at Hagrid's Hut. Winner of the "Made The Mods Snort Soda" award.Warnings: Molestation of unsuspecting Cucurbita maxima, not-quite-Weasleycest, underage Charlie and Bill (15 and 17 respectively), wanking, self-lovin', tossing off, having one off at the wrist, chicken choking, meat beating, monkey spanking, percy punishing, pud pulling, turkey tossing, wand polishing, etc.Please don't read if you're easily offended or are lacking a sense of humour about teenage boys or unsuspecting vegetables.





	Smashing Pumpkins

"Bill?" Charlie Weasley hissed as he headed towards Hagrid's hut, one extremely huge and heavy pumpkin in tow. "Bill?!" 

"Shh. Be quiet, you twat," his brother Bill ordered harshly.

Charlie peered in the direction of his brother's voice, but could barely make out Bill's lanky frame in the shadows cast by the low, one-roomed building that loomed behind them. It was already after dark, so it had been quite an ordeal sneaking out of the castle to meet Bill out by the pumpkin patch, let alone pick himself a decent sized pumpkin for their evening's entertainment. "How'd you manage with Hagrid?" he whispered, glancing over at the back door of the hut. "He's not going to come charging out here, is it?" 

Bill shook his shaggy head, then smirked. "Nah. He's passed out. Nothing like a bottle of Ogden's Old to put the old fella to out for the night. One minute he was singing "Odo the Hero" at the top of his lungs, pissed as a newt, next minute, dead to the world." 

Shivering in the cold October night air, Charlie gave a quick nod. 

"What took you so long, Charlie?" Bill asked. Charlie could see Bill had obtained a pumpkin as well; it was sitting by his feet, nearly waist-high, looking larger and more impressive than Charlie's own. _Typical._ "I've been waiting here for ages. I'd be freezing my bollocks off if I hadn't had been drinking with Hagrid." 

Charlie rolled his eyes in annoyance. Bill was of age now and therefore legally allowed to drink, a fact which he never seemed to stop reminding Charlie about. Bill was also the Head Boy at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry which meant he pretty much had _carte blanche_ to go wherever he wanted on school grounds whenever he wanted without anyone questioning his reasons. "Sorry, _Head Boy_ ," Charlie scoffed, watching his breath frosting in the air. "I got stopped by Sprout on the way out. Had to tell her I was just finishing up my Prefect rounds -- luckily she let me go without a fuss." 

"Was that before or after you nicked the pumpkin?" Bill asked, a hint of teasing in his voice. 

"Before, dickhead. Had to go tromping through the patch to find a decent one, didn't I?" 

Bill gave the over-sized pumpkin in Charlie's arms a quick looking over. "It'll do." 

"So," Charlie inquired nervously, "what do we do? Well, more to the point, what do I do with it?" 

"Well, first, you have to cut a hole big enough to fit your todger into," explained Bill, the corner of his mouth curving up into a smirk. "Which, in your case, means a very very small one." He pinched his thumb and forefinger together to indicate just how tiny he believed it to be. 

"Oi!" Charlie reached out and punched his older brother in the shoulder. "Yours would have to be even smaller, then, quill dick." 

Rubbing his arm, Bill pursed his lips together in aggravation. "Hardly. You know, I don't really need to be out here doing this with you, Charlie. I've got loads better options than _pumpkins_ when it comes to shagging." 

"It was your idea, matey, not mine." Charlie could feel the heat rising from his cheeks. It _had_ been Bill's idea to do this, determined to give his younger brother a much needed lesson on how to do...certain things. Certain things required of the maturing male. "And if you've got such better options, then why aren't you exploring 'em? Oh, that's right, because Calantha Dorny threw you over for that Griffiths bloke last week, leaving you all alone with your beloved right hand. Or..." he glanced back down at the ground, "a bloody great pumpkin." While Charlie had no doubt that Bill wouldn't be lonely for too long -- the bastard never was without at least one girlfriend for more than a week-- he relished every opportunity to take the piss out of his older brother while he could. 

"Do you want to do this or not, tosspot?" was Bill's only reply, although Charlie could see he'd been stung by the mention of Calantha. 

"Yes." Like it or not, Charlie was horny. He was fifteen years old, nearly sixteen, and the time he didn't devote to thinking about playing Quidditch or studying dragons, he spent obsessing about girls and what he'd like to do with them. Sadly, that comprised the majority of his waking hours.

"Well, then, get on with it..." Bill turned his back on his brother to start work on his pumpkin. "Reckon it's got to be wide enough for you to stick your willie in it, but with enough room to still feel something around it. Too narrow and you'll get stuck." He continued to scoop out a hole in the pumpkin, sniggering as he did. "And I don't think you fancy showing up to Madam Pomfrey trying to explain how you managed to get a pumpkin caught on your dick." 

Charlie snorted, then began to use a Cutting Charm to cut out the requisite hole for his use. It wasn't much different than carving a jack o'lantern, he decided, although he'd never considered utilizing one for such interesting pursuits before this. Eyeing the opening, he tried to gauge if it was the right size or not, then snuck a glance over at Bill's. His was a bit wider, so Charlie cut out a little more of his own just in case. "That ought to do it," he said with an exaggerated sigh. 

"Now use a warming charm on it -- just to make certain it's not ice cold. And," Bill waggled his eyebrows at Charlie, giving him a knowing look, "makes it feel just like the real thing." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you've done it with a girl already," Charlie muttered, wondering how much longer he was going to have to endure Bill's bragging about _that_. He wasn't even certain he believed it was true...except that Bill wasn't the sort to lie about anything to Charlie, even his sexual prowess. 

Bill clapped a hand on Charlie's shoulder sympathetically, then replied, "You will, little brother. Just give it time, yeah?" 

"Easy for you to say." 

"Ah, you're a Prefect, and the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team," Bill told him, "Before you know it, birds'll be throwing their knickers at you and begging you to shag them rotten." 

Charlie knew Bill was right -- he'd seen the way girls reacted to some of the older students. He just had yet to reap the benefits from either position and it was somewhat depressing. He didn't want to think about it any further. "So, now what?" 

"Now you ask it out to Madam Puddifoot's for a coffee..." Bill scoffed. "What do you think you do, Charlie?" 

"Well, I'm not exactly...," Charlie felt himself blushing as he glanced down at his crotch, "you know. Ready." 

Bill snorted derisively. "That's got to be a first." 

"It's bloody cold out and I'm standing outdoors, not 10 feet from Hagrid, and you're here..." 

"Oh, for fuck's sake, stop moaning, Charlie. My presence has never once stopped you wanking before this," Bill reminded him. 

The brothers shared a bedroom back at the Burrow and it had become a common past time to toss off together before going to bed at night, before getting out of bed in the morning, and any other time they could manage it without getting caught. This had been going on since Charlie had been old enough to wank, and it had only ever been the two of them alone. Charlie couldn't imagine Perce or the twins joining in at any time, nor did he want them to; it was a special bond between Bill and himself. "No, it hasn't, but--" 

"Warming spell," Bill ordered, then tapped his pumpkin with his wand. Charlie could see steam rising off of the hard orange rind. Grinning, Bill slid two fingers into the gaping hole in the pumpkin, moving them around in a slow arc before withdrawing them again. They were covered in slimy pumpkin goo. "You should try that with a bird too. They love it." 

"Do you reckon your pumpkin's going to care?" Charlie countered, following his brother's lead. 

"No, but I don't want to burn my dick off either. Just checking to make sure it's not too hot - unlike a bird who's always just right." 

Tentatively, Charlie stuck his fingers inside his pumpkin, swirling them around in a similar fashion to what Bill had done. It was warm, slippery and squishy inside, but hardly an unpleasant sensation. He wondered if experiencing finger pie with a girl would feel the same. To his surprise, Charlie felt a familiar stirring in his loins at the thought. 

Bill was already palming himself through his jeans, the tell-tale bulge of an erection beneath his hand. Without an ounce of self-consciousness, he unzipped his flies and shoved his jeans down to his thighs, his impressive erection curving up against his pale belly. Once again, Charlie felt somewhat inadequate in comparison to his brother. Meanwhile, Bill was wrapping his fingers around the hilt, before guiding himself into the pumpkin, sheathing himself in root deep with a satisfied grunt. 

"Blimey," Charlie murmured, struggling to remove his own clothes, and managing to smear raw pumpkin guts all over them in the process. 

"Oh, look," Bill commented, looking over at Charlie. "You've finally gotten rid of those dragon underpants you used to live in. You're a big boy now, Charlie…" 

"Bill, fuck off, would you?" Charlie gave his brother a two finger salute before gripping his own cock, and stroked it until he was fully hard. It took several tries before he got the head of his cock lined up properly with the hole. He could feel the heat rising up from inside, quite the contrast to the cold night air against his bare skin. "Merlin's bloody balls...," he groaned as he pushed forward, suddenly surrounded by warmth and wetness the likes of which he'd never experienced before. 

"There ya go," Bill managed between gritted teeth. "Feels good, doesn't it?" 

Charlie could barely nod, although he knew he was grinning like an idiot. It was the most brilliant thing he'd ever felt in his life. He leaned forward, gripping the sides of the pumpkin, and began to buck his hips. 

"Slow down, Charlie," said Bill. "Watch me..." He rocked his hips forward, then back again, creating a careful rhythm; slow, slow, quick, quick, slow, over and over again. "Girls don't want you to just give 'em 'wham, bam, thank you, ma'am'. They like it when you can last." 

He had no idea how any bloke could keep at it for more than a few minutes given the circumstances. It seemed utterly impossible. Still, Charlie wasn't one to give up that easily. "Uh. Huh," he panted, trying to emulate his brother. He started off slowly, savouring the sensation of the slick pumpkin innards and the friction of the husk against his shaft as he pushed in and pulled out again. It wasn't quite as tight as his hand and he missed the ability to vary the pressure, but otherwise, it _was_ cracking. He stopped paying attention to Bill's movements, and his scrawny, freckled arse, concentrating on sussing out what _he_ liked. It was difficult, but not impossible to find the right pace. 

"Good lad," he heard Bill hiss. "Now imagine it's Celestina Warbeck..." 

"Unnngh," Charlie felt his knees buckling at the thought of shagging the blowzy singer. 

"Her tits. Her arse. Her pussy. All there for you--" 

Bill's words flashed a number of tantalizing images into Charlie's head: large, pert breasts, a round, firm arse, a wet, glistening cunt like those he'd seen in some of the dirty mags Bill had bought over the summer and kept hidden in their room. Still, he wasn't certain it was really Celestina Warbeck he wanted to see starkers. "Nah, Catriona McCormack," he blurted. "Catriona right after a hard match...all sweaty, filthy and hot, just stripping off like in that Girls of the English Quidditch League issue of _PlayWizard_ , ready to go into the showers..." 

"I think I prefer Gwenog Jones. Mmmm...Gwenog, you naughty, naughty girl..." Bill moaned, then gave his pumpkin a hard slap for good measure. "My hot little Harpy…"

"Catriona--" Charlie bit down on his lower lip, inhaling deeply, his thrusts beginning to accelerate. "Oooooh, Catriona. That's it, let me f-fuck you..." 

"Are you certain you wouldn't rather think about Harvey Ridgebit, mate?" Bill asked as he continued to pump against his pumpkin, making it seem effortless. "Just think of his pasty wrinkled arse and his shrivelled grey bits--" 

Harvey Ridgebit was the foremost authority on dragons the Wizarding World had ever known, and Charlie owned every tome the man had written over the course of his lifetime (which had ended when Charlie was all of a year old). But the vision of the bald and beardy old geezer bollocks naked was not what Charlie needed at the moment. "Piss off, you bastard!" 

Bill broke into peals of raucous laughter. "Y-you should see your expression, Charlie! Priceless!" 

"More your type, mate," Charlie grumbled. "Or p'raps you'd prefer Dumbledore...?" 

"Ah, a bit too old for my tastes," Bill replied, shrugging off the suggestion lightly. "Won't stop you if you want a go with him though." 

" _No._ " Charlie fought to bring his focus back to visions of Catriona McCormack dancing naked except for her boots and arm braces before his eyes. It was quite a lovely picture. He could feel his balls tightening, his cock aching as he picked up his pace even more: in, out, in, out, the pumpkin shell slick and warm against his skin. "This is good," he rasped. "Really really good..." 

Whatever Bill was thinking about, he didn't say. His eyes were now squeezed tight, his face screwed up in intense concentration as he gripped the stem of his pumpkin with both hands, his hips snapping back and forth in a frenzy. His breathing was erratic, coming out in ragged bursts and guttural moans. 

Charlie slammed forward over and over again, desperate for release. "Merlin, fucking fucking _Merlin_..." Gasping and groaning, he felt his climax build until finally, he tensed, coming in a dizzying, heated rush, spilling into the pumpkin in front of him. He slumped across the top of the pumpkin, damp and spent from exertion. Somewhere to his right, Bill was stifling a roar as he finished himself off. "Fuck," Charlie groaned. 

Bill raised his head, looking lazily at his younger brother with half-lidded eyes. "Enjoyed yourself, did you?" 

"Mmm," Charlie managed, gulping for breath. "B-brilliant." He withdrew his flaccid cock, now dripping with a sticky combination of spunk and pumpkin guts. "Yeeech."

"Need a handkerchief?" Bill fumbled for his jeans, pulling out a clean pocket handkerchief and handed it to Charlie. 

"Ta." Charlie started to wipe himself off, although it seemed like a exercise in futility. He was definitely going to have to hit the showers before going to bed. 

Bill was already using a _Scourgify_ on his bits, shivering in the night's chill. Suddenly, there was a loud crash from inside of Hagrid's hut followed by the frantic barking and howling of a very large dog. "Shit. He's awake!" Bill yelped. 

Charlie grabbed his jeans and pants, yanking them on over his still sticky bits, no longer worrying about cleanliness as much as self-preservation. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a light come on inside the hut. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here!" 

Bill nodded, then the two brothers tore out of the dark garden and back towards the school before they could be caught.

* * *

Charlie was sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, forcing down some oatmeal when Hagrid staggered into the room. He looked across the table, catching Bill's eye, feeling himself going pale, his heart somewhere in the vicinity of his throat.

Hagrid was a sick shade of green, and he was moaning as if in great pain; Charlie could recognize an impressive hangover when he saw one. 

"Hagrid! Whatever is wrong with you?" Professor McGonagall snapped, giving the Groundskeeper a sour look. 

"Bad night, Professor," Hagrid moaned. "I, erm, I was a bit ill, I think. An' then I awoke in the middle o' the night to discover that them pumpkin-borin' Streelers* were back in my patch again. Ruined a pair o' perfectly good pumpkins! Right beauties, they'd been!" 

Bill choked on his buttered toast, fighting back a giggle, but Charlie was mortified. He sunk down a bit in his seat, his appetite now completely gone.

"I thought they were just sprayed a few days ago. Surely you were just in the Headmaster's office on Monday asking for permission to use a stronger pesticide on the patch--?" 

"I did," Hagrid insisted, "but the buggers 'ave clearly come back. I just had ter burn the ruddy things before the infestation spread any further." His face took on a pained expression at the thought of having to destroy such fine specimens. 

McGonagall cocked an sceptical eyebrow at the giant. "Are you certain it was Streelers and not some sort of schoolboy prank?" 

"O' course not!" Hagrid boomed, then winced at the volume of his own voice. "Don' yeh think I know Streeler venom when I see it oozin' out of me own pumpkins? That stuff's lethal!" 

Bill started coughing loudly, his face crimson, as he pounded one fist on the table, all but cramming his other hand in his mouth to muffle his laughter. Charlie glared daggers at his brother, then shoved a pitcher of cold pumpkin juice his way. 

Taking one look at the metal pitcher and its contents, Bill lost all control, breaking down into whoops of raucous laughter, tears of mirth pouring down his freckled cheeks. He gripped at the table's edge, barely able to keep himself from falling out of his chair. 

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall shot Bill a dark look. "Whatever is the matter? I don't know what could possibly be that hilarious, but this is conduct most unbecoming for any student of mine, let alone the school Head Boy! You will comport yourself in a civilised manner immediately or there will be detention in your future! Perhaps helping Hagrid out with his pumpkins would sober you up?" 

Charlie bit his tongue, desperate to hold back a wave of sniggering as the word "pumpkins" was uttered. Bill's eyes met his, and then Charlie was completely and utterly lost. Every shred of resolve melted away, causing him to collapse into a heap of hysterical giggles, no longer caring that everyone at the Gryffindor table was now staring at the pair of them as if they were barking mad and had each sprouted an extra head, or that he'd just earned Professor McGonagall's eternal wrath. 

"That's enough out of both of you!" McGonagall exploded. "You will report to Hagrid tonight after your classes! I'm certain he can use two extra pairs of hands tending those pumpkins!" 

As he and Bill continued falling about with laughter, Charlie was filled with a mixture of dread and elation. He knew the old saying wasn't true; wanking too much clearly wouldn't lead to hairy palms or blindness. He and Bill were living proof of that -- although they weren't too sure about Percy. But, down deep, he wondered if too many nights alone with Hagrid's pumpkins might turn his todger permanently orange, provided it didn't fall off from continuous overuse. 

* Streeler: A giant African snail that changes colour on an hourly basis and deposits behind it a trail so venomous that it shrivels and burns all vegetation over which it passes. The Streeler is native to several African countries, though it has been successfully raised by wizards in Europe, Asia and the Americas. It is kept by a pet by those who enjoy its kaleidoscopic colour changes, and its venom is one of the few substances known to kill Horklumps. ( _Fantastic Beasts & Where To Find Them_ by Newt Scamander (UK edition), p. 40 )


End file.
